Fake Porcelain
by Flickering Windows
Summary: A series of oneshots. Heartless. "Maybe I've been heartless all along." Chinese Doll. "But in the end, they are all wrong about the Chinese doll with the placated smile and auburn locks." To Bury Oneself. "It's her grave." Ch.3 Uploaded, COMPLETE
1. Heartless

Heartless

Heartless

It was a sad day, at least to those with something called emotions. To others, it was just a signal another loss, another casualty, or another severely injured person. But, as many people crowded at a plain hospital room, they could only wonder why.

…………………………………………………………………………………………..

"Sakura-chan, please wake up!" Hinata cried into the concurrent blanche of the bed sheets, clutching them in a death grip, while Neji, looking distraught and disorganized, stood at the foot of the bed. Many others (including the Yamanaka girl) sat, huddled and emotionally unstable.

It had been a difficult mission, that much was obvious. Still, why did it have to be the adored rosette? Why? They didn't receive an answer.

"1 am…the mission starts soon." The quiet mutterings of a brunette standing outside the room alerted Neji to his senses. He turned to glare at her, his eyes piercing and just as dim as the lighting in the room.

"How can you think of leaving on a mission when she's like that? What kind of person are you?" He snapped, setting his verbal abuse on her. Tenten, the brown-haired girl, turned to face him.

"If I'm not going to go on missions, who is? You're all here, and I don't think any of you plan to leave for a while. And she isn't going to wake up for a while, either." She smirked, letting her sharp voice cut through the murky air. The sterile white of the walls were a great contrast to the fiery aura that she was giving off. Neji stood there, looking dumbfounded, the dose of reality almost overwhelming to the secretive dreamer. Tenten walked off, the steady and quiet taps on the floor paced and unrushed. Hinata, overcome with grief, stared at the comatose patient in the bed, before cutting in.

"Tenten-chan! Why are you like this? You used to cry for anyone who was injured! Now you're…so heartless…" Hinata cited, her voice fading away into sobs. Apparently, the outburst caught the attention of the brunette walking in the placid halls.

"Heartless, huh…then,maybe I haven't been real." Tenten turned to the young girl's direction, her eyes blank. "Maybe I've been heartless all along." And she left.


	2. Chinese Doll

II: Chinese doll…

II: Chinese doll….

Look at the beautiful Chinese doll. See how it differs from the rest? She can laugh. She can cry. She can feel.

But, in the end, they are all wrong about the porcelain doll with the placated smile and the auburn locks. She can't' feel.

Especially not cry, cry sadly.

Or laugh, laugh with passion.

Because, after all, she is a doll, no matter how beautiful she becomes, No matter how many layers of thick cream and figurative paint there is. She is just, and only, a Chinese doll.

They stare at her, and feel angry, because they envy her soul. They are jealous of the fact that she can be truly happy in dark times. They do not know of her predicament. She is a doll; she cannot change her emotion, because it is painted on her face in deep-set black and shades of brown. She is like that (happy and determined) because she was created like that.

So now, as the doll wants to reform herself, her whole being, she breaks. Breaks into pieces of shattered porcelain and doll clothes.

And now they clutch the pieces of her, remembering and chanting her name in murmurs and sobs.

Tenten, they say, Tenten.


	3. To Bury Oneself

To Bury Oneself

To Bury Oneself

The sun shines unbearably on the village, windows reflecting the glare. In a largely shady spot, scattered in neat rows and patterns, are slabs of stone with engraved names and dedications. Amongst them all, is a grave, empty and isolated. While the others have roses and stargazers and carnations, It lies there, barren.

"Tsk. What a waste of space." Someone says towards the lone grave, her tongue clicking in a foreign dialect. "What idiots." She turns away, staring into the bright sunlight. A gray bandage covers one of her eyes. Facing the memorial, she smirks, and kneels. She traces over the faded embossing, and laughs bitterly, staring at the grave.

Because it is hers, Tenten thinks. It's her grave.

And even after faking her tragic death, they still do not recognize her. Even as her "death" was in protecting the cause of the war from the war itself.

"Goodbye, Tenten." She says, and walks away, while the graveyard caretaker eyes her warily, a grimace on his lips, as he goes to report the visitor.


End file.
